


lost chances

by drowsycomfort



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Other, Reader-Insert, iwaizumi calls u an idiot and u agree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:33:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowsycomfort/pseuds/drowsycomfort
Summary: "Your friendship was then built on that simple interaction that ended with a promise to the summer festival. And it continued until you found yourself to be one of closest friends. He was the one who opened his doors for you, hand stretched out, waiting to be grasped. And you did, selfishly. Taking everything he gave you and giving back just enough. Enough to keep suspicion off your radar. To keep being friends, because that was enough for you."in which you're both pining idiots, but it's worth it.





	lost chances

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing I wrote a while back in wattpad lol its mainly word vomit and an attempt to write something more Descriptive, persay. call this an experiment

Feelings were always tricky. People often express their feeling differently, like how smiles aren't always indicators for happiness. With this thought in mind, one could say that  _love_  can be expressed differently too. Some people are verbal, others are more physical. You couldn't blame yourself for not picking up on the signs early on.

There's the lingering looks as you pass by each other in the hallways. The urge to talk to him longer, even by the slightest bits. Even by mere seconds, just as long as you could be near him—to talk to him. To look at his eyes and commit it to memory. The way the different shades of earthy brown swirl with the different emotions he feels as the conversation carries on. The way his lips curl into a smile or the slight twitch of his nose as something that irritates him come into topic.

(You manage to put two and two together during a night of restlessness. Insomnia coursing through your veins with fingertips buzzing and mind running too fast for you to catch up. He hated talking about Shiratorizawa—or more specifically, their ace. What you had thought was a friendly rivalry was something  _much_  more.)

You want so much and can only give so little in fear of him finding out. So you give the bare minimum. You're there to greet him good morning when he enters the classroom. You're there to wish him luck as he heads off to volleyball practice. You take in his smiles, his friendly greetings that you're sure are mostly out of obligation and store them selfishly in your brain for a rainy day.

—

The two of you have known each other since the first year of high school. But calling it something even as simple as a friendship would stretch it too far. You merely ended up in the same class as him all three years—a happy coincidence. You didn't think he'd notice, mainly because you stayed clear of him during your first year. Your nerves getting the best of you but the crowd of girls that would often surround him during breaks pushed you away too. You couldn't— _wouldn't_ —dare to fight the vulture-esque girls vying for his attention.

Of course, life had different plans for you on your second year of high school. Rather than sitting a good few seats away from Oikawa, you found yourself sitting right behind him.

"We're in the same class again, ___-chan!" He'd exclaimed, as he turned on his chair to face you. His smile at the time was bright. Brighter than the overhead lights, brighter than the sun shining in from the windows—just,  _bright_. You manage to force a smile through a slack jawed expression, which most likely made you look constipated. He doesn't seem to notice, still smiling brightly.

At the time, it felt like a joke. Something cruel that whatever deity had planned for you. Because there was no possible way he could remember you, much less  _learn_  your name. You think back in the previous year, rummaging through filed memories of when you two spoke at all but coming up blank. However, he seems to notice the cogs slowly turning in your mind and his cheeks flushed the same shade of red as yours.

"I never... I never forget a face." He explains and you're shocked to see the blush creeping up to the tips of his ears. Because this was Oikawa Tooru, who constantly flirted with girls and never batted an eye. As if it was just like breathing for him. There was an odd edge to his voice, hesitant, but there was also something else behind it that you couldn't quite place. But, you take it. Because he was finally talking to you—and  _god_  you take what you could. With flushed cheeks, you smile at him, genuinely. And he does too.

Maybe it was at that moment where you fell for him. Pushed over the edge that you oh-so curiously peered over. With flushed cheeks and genuine smiles. It was easy for just about anybody to fall in love with Oikawa, you think. And falling  _was_  easy. He made it too easy. Falling over the edge and into a bottomless pit. Unable to see the bottom and  _that_  terrifies you. When will feelings catch up? When will you suddenly hit the ground with a disgusting  _splat_?

"A-anyways! Did you do anything fun during summer, ___-chan?" He changes the topic so swiftly that it gives you a whiplash. He was friendly in nature, so you shouldn't be so surprised with how easily he could take reign in a conversation. Still, a smile is far from actual words. It was easy to pull off a smile—to show off the happiness filling you to the brim. But to actually speak?

When you don't seem to take the bait, he continues on. Chatting to fill the space that you continue to add onto. "I really only practiced volleyball. But I did go to the summer festival with Iwa-chan! The fireworks were so pretty..." He continues on, filling and filling the space you continue to make larger.

_I have to talk._

"...I..." Your voice is a bit croaked, from the nerves, definitely. From having Oikawa Tooru talking to you like you're both the best of friends. But maybe it was from the realization as well. That you might not just  _like_  him. That it was more. His brown eyes, expectant, as they lock with yours. You clear your throat as discreetly as possible.

Oikawa's hand is outstretched towards you. Big, grand doors opened wide just for you and all that was left was for you to take his hand. To take the initial step towards him. Because relationships are built on the give and take of two people. One cannot give too much and one cannot take too much. If that were to happen, sooner or later, one will run out of love to give.

"...I've always wanted to go—" You manage to stammer through. You gingerly avert your eyes away from his expectant ones, but not before you manage to catch the twitch of a smile at the corners of his lips before your eyes land on the table between you two. It's the only thing really keeping you anchored, especially with the way he leans over just the slightest bit your way—a fact that you could only contribute to your hushed voice. "T-to...to the summer festival."

"Oh really? You should come with me and Iwa-chan then!" Your heart skips a beat and you nod before you could mull over his offer.

Your friendship was then built on that simple interaction that ended with a promise to the summer festival. And it continued until you found yourself to be one of closest friends. He was the one who opened his doors for you, hand stretched out, waiting to be grasped. And you did, selfishly. Taking everything he gave you and giving back just enough. Enough to keep suspicion off your radar. To keep being friends, because _that_  was enough for you.

—

The summer festival was left untouched as Aoba Johsai volleyball team find themselves tangled in a series of practice matches with college students at the same time. But it was okay, because there was always _next year_. By your third year, you've gotten used of acting normal. As normal as things could get between balancing your romantic and platonic feelings for Oikawa.

But some days, you slip.

Some days, you wish for more. Your touches linger longer than they should. Stares lasting longer than they should. Maybe even a break in your expression. That anybody with two working eyes could notice. Some days, you find yourself getting lost in the way his expression changes as he talks. His shift in tone when Iwaizumi come into the room or when he starts to talk about his particular interests that isn't volleyball.

(Not that you minded his volleyball talks. You loved seeing the way his eyes lit up at the talk of volleyball. It's a topic that you have only been able to step into its shallow waters; dark and murky waters licking at your ankles. In front of you, there's more. A lake—maybe even an ocean. Untouched. Waiting to be discovered.

Once again, it's up to you to take the steps forward. For you to wade out into the neck deep water, unafraid of getting the rest of your body wet.)

(Instead, you stay in the shallow waters, feet planted on the ground.)

(Like a coward.)

"You're an idiot." It's Iwaizumi voice. Gruff, and said just quietly enough for only you to hear. Oikawa is sitting across the two of you, too busy chatting with a few of his fans. There are prickles of envy in your fingertips; wishing that you could be as courageous as them. To freely confess your feelings to Oikawa and be able to take his rejection. But instead, you take the cowardly route—you stay as his friend and hide your feelings.

Acting dumb won't work on Iwaizumi. He knows too much. Nights you've spent in tears were spent with him. Too overcome with feelings to function properly, the need to just  _talk_  to anybody. Like the day Oikawa announced his new relationship—a cute girl from the class next door. Iwaizumi had been there to catch you. Much like he's there to catch Oikawa when he starts to fall.

You smile, anyway. "What're you talking about, Iwa-chan? Don't be so mean."

Your statement comes out hollow and it wouldn't be a shock if Iwaizumi didn't take note of it. With a huff, he lightly buffs you on the arm. You force a pinched laugh, knowing well enough that you'll get scolded later on. He was always too perspective.

You miss the glance that Oikawa passes the two of you that day.

Later that night, you receive a text from Iwaizumi. It's the same three words, with the addition of another sentence:  _You'll regret not telling him in the future._  You scoffed at that. What was there to regret when you were able to spend your years of high school being his friend? You were content with this—if anything—confessing and messing up your friendship would cause more regret.

—

Your third year in Aoba Johsai goes by in a flash. You were there to watch Aoba Johsai face defeat in the arms of Karasuno. You were there to watch the third years break into tears. But you weren't there to catch them in the way that Iwaizumi did—all those months ago. You were a mere observer, too afraid to break the barrier. To outstretch your arms and catch them. You watch them fall between your fingers like sand. The summer festival was left untouched in your third year.

Before you know it, you're twenty-five years old. Working an office day job and spending most of your nights doing work that you weren't able to finish in your workplace. Contact with Oikawa has been lost, but you manage to hold onto the small string keeping you with Iwaizumi. Insomnia has long surpassed you, instead, its  _regret_  that's been keeping you up at night. Series of  _what if_ s playing over and over in your head.

You want to laugh. Iwaizumi was right, like he often is.  _I really am an idiot_.

A sigh passes through your lips, shuddering at the thought of your high school years. It was nearing the time for a summer festival, but you can't find it in you to go. There was still the teenage you, somewhere in your mind, that's waiting for Oikawa. Even if it's highly impossible now. Those were so many years ago—you can't help but wonder what he's been up to now.

"___-chan? It is you! ___-chan!"

You freeze on the spot.

In front of you, just emerging out of the subway station below ground, was the one and only. He looks the same, older, sure, but still the charming student you knew him as before. He's smiling, phone held out in front of him and his free hand opened to a wave. There it was again—the feeling of being played by some cruel deity from above.

He approaches you, arm stretched out and inviting. You get a sense of deja vu, a laugh forcing itself to bubble up your throat as he pulls you into a quick hug. It takes you and extra five seconds to realize what exactly is happening and when it catches up, it feels like you've finally landed at the bottom of the metaphoric cliff you fell off of some years ago.

"What's wrong, ___-chan? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You bite back the tears and pull him back into a hug. He's  _here_ ,  _why is he here_?

Oikawa hums cheerfully, but hugs you back nonetheless. Your heart is pounding against your chest and you wonder if he could feel how fast it's beating right now. You couldn't care less, it's a way for him to know. He has to know, if you can't find the words to say it.

"I missed you too, ___-chan." There's a fondness in his voice and it makes your heart skip a beat. You faintly wonder if his heart skipped a beat as well. Did Iwaizumi put him up to this? You shrug the thought away, instead deciding to relish in the moment. There was no point in making this negative. He was here and he's real.

You don't know how, but the two of you end up in your apartment that night. With the television playing one of Oikawa's favorite sci-fi films and Chinese take out laid out on the coffee table. There's a sliver of a space between the two of you, where both of your hands are separated with only a centimeter of space. Your fingers twitch, itching to just hold onto his. To hold his calloused hands and feel how they intertwine with yours.

The two of you spent the past few hours catching up with each other. What Oikawa had been up to since they graduated, his current job, the usual. And in turn, you tell him about yourself as well. How you ended up working in an office that you interned for during college. And how you managed to keep track of Iwaizumi even after years of college. For some odd reason, you hesitate on the last factoid, but still say it nonetheless. Oikawa seems to pause for a split second but the conversation doesn't falter.

How ridiculous—here you are, a twenty-five year old citizen of Japan, still acting like a teenager in love the moment your high school crush comes around. A voice that suspiciously sounds like Iwaizumi calls you an idiot and for once—you agree.

"Say, ___-chan?"

You turn his way, expectant. Your fingers twitch and you glance down at how close your hands are. Maybe at another timeline, you'd have held onto his hand. Made the first move. You look back up to him and he's averted his eyes. Despite the rest of his body being turned your way, his eyes only ever manage to land on the coffee table in front of the two of you. Never once have you seen a hesitant Oikawa.

Maybe this was a sign.

"...Did...did you ever l-like Iwa-chan?"

You want to laugh. Or maybe even cry. Definitely an odd mix of both of those. He seems to take in your shock and you can hear his audible gulp. His eyes wavered a bit, but finally locked onto yours. There's determination in them, a bit of hesitance, mixed in with something dark that you can't exactly fathom. But it's a look that you've never seen him wear—not during the time he was single nor the time he began to date the cute girl from the next class over. Definitely not when they broke up either.

"I—you two always seemed so...so  _close_."

Idiot.  _Idiot_  Oikawa. You still can't get the courage to speak up, If this is going in the way you think it will, then you're definitely an idiot too. You wonder if he could see the way the cogs in your brain are slowly turning. Could he see past your initial shock and realize what you're realizing?

"And then... _n-nothing_ —nothing happened."

You start to laugh. His eyes widen as a flash of offense rush through his face. You laugh and laugh until there are tears spilling out from the corner of your eyes. Your tears are hot, a mix of tears from laughter and tears of relief. A series of  _what if_ s and  _if only_ s rush through your head and you can't help but feel the hollowness of regret.

(If only I wasn't such a coward. We'd have this moment sooner.)

"___-chan?" He looks more concerned than anything. Hand lifted up slightly, like he wants to cup your face. To wipe your tears away. But he doesn't, stuck in the purgatory of hesitance.

"I—the person I liked w-was... _you_ , Oikawa." Who would have thought that you'd be the first to confess. The cowardly you who could barely talk to him. The cowardly you who was filled only with regrets after high school. "I...Iwaizu—Iwa-chan just— _helped_  me."

"Oh my god—oh—"

Oikawa's hand doesn't hesitate to cup your face this time. His other hand follows suit and your tears spill onto his two hands. A breathless laugh slips past his lips as he leans in to close the space between the two of you. And all those years of wanting and waiting in high school seemed like such a waste. When  _this_ —you two—could have been something so much sooner?

"Can—can I kiss you?" It's long overdue but still welcomed. A gross sob escapes your mouth in favor of an actual answer and Oikawa chuckles. He wipes the tears away from your face, his question still hanging in the air. His appearance shifts to a more softer expression and you can't stop the grin pulling the corner of your lips. "___-chan?"

"Y-yes Oikawa.  _Yes_."

The kiss is soft and chaste, but it's enough to make your heart clench. It felt just  _right_. Oikawa pulls away with a smile, your noses bumping into each other. Every ounce of regret from your body is pulled away, especially with seeing how his eyes have softened to a lighter shade of brown. The way his cheeks are dusted with red.  _Beautiful_.

You might have lived what felt like a lifetime of regret, but nothing could ever top the relief you feel at this exact moment. To find out that the one you've pined over for years felt the exact same way. You've finally landed from that metaphoric cliff but rather than the cold, hard ground, what you landed on was a soft cushion with Oikawa waiting just for you. And the relief was worth it.


End file.
